


The house that Ironstrange built

by opposablethumbs



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU: they beat Thanos, And then they kissed, Established Relationship, M/M, Making a home together, Mentions of deceased relatives, Nebraska, many feelings, unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/pseuds/opposablethumbs
Summary: Stephen has something to show Tony, and it isn't what he expects.





	The house that Ironstrange built

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble that became a bit more than a drabble, for a good dude on tumblr who hooked me up with some ironstrange resources.

Tony hated portals. But when your significant other is Earth’s foremost Master Magician, it’s just something you learn to accept. 

Stepping through, he felt the familiar wash of energy tickle it’s way along his nerves and then the static release as he emerged the other side.

Tony surveyed his destination with a critical eye.

“When you said you wanted to take me somewhere, Doctor Darling” he said, craning his neck to find Stephen, “this... is not what I expected.”

The portal had deposited them at the side of a dusty, tarmac road. The sun shone overhead and the sky was a banner of blue that stretched across what seemed like an unending horizon of farmland. The closest fields were overgrown, clusters of corn breaking free of scrubby weeds and swaying gently in the light breeze. 

“Where are we?” Tony asked sweetly.

Stephen’s eyes flickered from Tony’s face, out across the unkempt fields and then back again.

“Nebraska,” he said, and then, more quietly: “Home.”

He began walking along the road, his long legs carrying him away from Tony even as Tony gawped a little. Coming to his senses, Tony hop-skip-jogged to catch up with Stephen.

“Home?” he said.

An overgrown track met the road at a perpendicular angle, and almost invisible unless you knew where it was. Stephen turned down it, stomping on the longest weeds with his heavy boots. It made sense to Tony now why Stephen had forgone his more traditional robes and dressed instead in a pair of dark jeans with a slimline jacket, and he was equally glad that he’d followed Stephen’s suggestion to change out of his favourite Tom Ford and into something more casual.

They walked the path in single file, Stephen leading the way. Tony considered making a Deliverance joke, but there was a stiffness to Stephen’s spine that told him to hold his tongue. After five minutes or so, the weeds and barren stalks began to clear, a run-down homestead came into view. Stephen stopped.

“Home,” he confirmed, nodding towards the dilapidated building.”This is where I grew up.”

Tony chewed his lip. “I, uh… assume it had more roof back then?”

Stephen shrugged, and began walking again. The path widened a short way afterwards, the remains of a drive, and Tony sped up so he could draw next to Stephen. Taking his boyfriend’s hand, Tony could feel a cold slick of sweat on Stephen’s palm.

The house was in a bad way. On top of the roofing issues, the frame was lilting at a precarious angle and, even to Tony’s city-native eyes, it was clear there was a woodworm infestation in the timber cladding. A rusted mailbox hung open and empty, barely erect and slowly being swallowed by climbing plants. Walking straight up to the porch steps, however, Stephen, stamped on the planks to judge their stability. Apparently satisfied when the entire structure didn’t collapse on him, he unbuttoned his jacket and set his backside down on the topmost step. A little more hesitant than Stephen, Tony cautiously followed suite.

“I haven’t been here for years,” Stephen said, although that much was clear. “Not since my mom…” He shrugged again, and Tony recognised the gesture from his own attempts to talk about his parents’ deaths.

“But you kept it on?” asked Tony softly. “I mean, you didn’t think about selling it, even after the accident?”

A small smile touched Stephen’s thin lips. “Before the crash, I didn’t need to think about it. After…” He dipped his head a little. “I couldn’t get here to sell it myself, and I was too proud to ask Christine to bring me. Too proud, and too ashamed.” 

“Ashamed?”

Stephen lifted his gaze suddenly and stared deep into Tony’s eyes. “I was _the_ Stephen Strange,” he said. “Graduated in record time, top of my class, the pick of fellowships and the best trauma hospitals in the world competing to hire me. I didn’t want her, or anyone, to know where I’d come from.”

Tony wriggled in closer to Stephen’s side, resting his chin on Stephen’s shoulder and nudging Stephen’s cheek with the tip of his nose. “But you’re showing me,” he said.

“Because I _do_ want you to know,” replied Stephen. “I _need_ you to understand me. All the parts of me. And this…” he gestured around the remains of his childhood home. “This is still a part of me.”

He got to his feet, and Tony stared up at him. Only when Stephen held out his hand for Tony to take did Tony stand himself.

“C’mon,” he said, gathering Tony under his arm. “I want to show you something.”

They walked around the side of the house and out into the expansive rear yard. It didn’t look so bad from the back, Tony discovered. There was even still some paint on the boards from this aspect, whereas the sun had bleached all of the front clear. Strolling away from the house, Stephen began pointing to landmarks and offering up little tidbits of information about each. It wasn’t long however until Tony became aware of the faint gurgle and splash of water running over rocks. A bed of tall reeds sprang up and the moisture in the air told Tony that there was a stream behind them.

“This was always my favourite spot,” Stephen said, coming to a halt. He took a deep breath and Tony found himself mirroring the action. The air was faintly sweet, as though the wind was coming to them over an orchard. Then Stephen reached out and ran his hand through the reeds, disturbing them, and suddenly they erupted with delicate cream butterflies.

Tony jumped back, the startled city-boy, and Stephen laughed. “It’s okay,” he said. “This creek runs all the way down to Papillon. It’s how the town got its name. As a kid, I’d bring my sister down here and set them off, hundreds of them, just to see her smile.”

Tony felt a smile of his own creeping onto his face.

“Just like that,” said Stephen softly. “It’s why I use butterflies as my counter-spells. This place always brought me peace.”

Tony watched the butterflies, some soaring off and others settling back down and melting into the reeds once more. He had to admit, it was beautiful.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he said.

Stephen leant in and kissed him; a gentle press of lips warmed by the sunshine. “You deserved to know what you’re letting yourself in for: a farm boy almost quite literally raised in a barn.”

Tony frowned. “I don’t care where you’re from,” he said, faintly scolding. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I love you for _you_. Not your social standing, wealth or 401K.”

“None of which I have,” Stephen replied.

“And none of which matters to me,” Tony countered. “Jeez, Stephen, I’ve always been rich, sure, but my dad grew up in Little Italy, and my grandparents were immigrants from Naples. The old money assholes never accepted us, and my dad - for whatever else he was - knew that unless he kept pushing and innovating and building the Stark myth, whatever we had could be taken away…” Tony paused to click his fingers. “Like that.”

He saw Stephen’s throat bob as the sorcerer swallowed. It may have been two years since the battle with Thanos, but neither of them had forgotten how close they had come to losing everything. How, in a different universe, that same gesture could have stolen one or both of them away, and never given them the chance to have what they’ve built since.

Looping his arms about Stephen’s waist, Tony dropped his ear to Stephen’s chest. “Hey,” he said softly. “You wanna keep this place?”

Stephen’s voice was a deep rumble. “I don’t want your money, Tony.”

Tony snorted, nestling closer. “Who said anything about that? I reckon it still has some life left in it. And I’m told I’m pretty good with my hands.” 

Stephen chuckled at the double entendre. “You’re going try and fix the place yourself?”

“Ourselves,” Tony corrected. “And anyway, I made the arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps. How hard can it be to rebuild a house?”

Stephen pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head. “A home,” he said.

“Home,” agreed Tony.


End file.
